


Shifting Sands

by kromeriffic



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Intrigue, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Spoilers, a mix of all sorts really, non-binary Warrior of Light, spoilers for the beginning of Heavensward
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-01-09 06:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12271218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kromeriffic/pseuds/kromeriffic
Summary: Thanks to Raubahn and the Warrior of Light's efforts, Nanamo has survived the attempt on her life, but at a terrible cost. Exiled to Little Ala Mhigo as a fugitive, and without her former resources, Nanamo wants to quietly recover.The universe has other plans for her.[Explicit chapters will be marked individually.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written after starting Heavensward but before the quest "Flame General Affairs." Basically, the plot broke my heart and I needed to write something better, and I've stopped playing the main story quests to avoid spoiling myself until I've finished. Please excuse any resulting weirdness, and enjoy.

“Good afternoon. It’s Wedge, isn’t it? How is Raubahn doing?”

“Oh! Your Grace- uh…” Wedge grimaced, blushed, and said. “Sorry. I just meant, I still think of you as - sorry…”

Nanamo was already regretting her impulse to stroll down to Cid’s makeshift lab in Little Ala Mhigo. Raubahn had been due back from his appointment some time ago, and having reached a good stopping-point in her work Nanamo had decided that she needed to stretch her legs anyway.

When she’d first regained consciousness in the desert hamlet, Nanamo had thought it would only be temporary, somewhere to lay low before moving a safer distance from Ul’dah. But her recovery from the poison took longer than anyone had predicted; days turned into weeks, and the administrative demands on her – _court-in-exile_ was a phrase she needed to stay away from – on her household had been unending. There had been messages to their surviving allies, covert requests for advice from illustrious healers, and arranging the delivery of supplies on Little Ala Mhigo’s behalf.

Quite apart from wanting to make herself useful to her hosts, Nanamo had been told: _keep busy, it will help you adjust_. She’d found herself far busier than she had ever been as Sultana, and enjoying it. At last, she could make a difference to people’s lives, and without relying on retainers of varying reliability.

Emergency communiques had turned into advice on the weaknesses of her city – what used to be her city – and as her strength returned, they became the seeds of a plan for a counter-attack. She’d stayed put, the better to receive reports and intelligence, and set up her own office that was fast becoming a centre of operations.

She waited for Wedge to stop babbling apologies, pretending that she was not wincing but closing her eyes against the ever-present dust.

Biggs rolled his eyes, and said pointedly, “Welcome, Nanamo.”

Nanamo clapped Wedge on the shoulder with an attempt at a reassuring smile, although she wasn’t sure that it was penetrating his fog of embarrassment. He was wringing his hands and staring at a point just beyond her shoulder.

“I promise, it’s okay just to use my name. I’m lucky to be alive; everything else is decoration. Now, about Raubahn?” She glanced at the entrance to the adjoining chamber, where two loud voices were getting much louder, and quickly.

_(What do you mean, you won’t even try it?)_

Biggs murmured, “He’s very strong-willed, Nanamo - as you know!” He grinned, unable to resist shaking his head in amusement, but he quickly sobered again. “Normally that would be a very promising sign, but-”

“I AM NOT HAVING FUCKING IMPERIAL TECH ON ME!”

Raubahn’s roar cut them off. Nanamo half thought that she could see strands of Wedge’s hair being blown out of place. There was a beat of shocked silence, and the air pressure normalised again.

“...I see.”

_(“I’m not an imperial engineer any more, you bastard! Wait! I’m not done examining..!”)_

Wedge leaned close to whisper to Nanamo, “Cid’s been dying to try out that prototype. It sounds like he’ll have to choose someone else to test it.”

A shadow fell across them. Raubahn had come storming out of the lab, followed by Cid who was holding a prosthetic arm as though it was his firstborn child. They were both brought up short by their unexpected audience; Raubahn took a moment to nod to Nanamo, then whirled back to Cid to jab an accusing finger at his prototype.

“You were trained in Imperial colleges, designing with Imperial tools, paid for by Imperial warlords while they subjugated Ala Mhigo – I’m not having it! Defector or not, you can choose another damn guinea pig!”

In the face of this fury, Cid had nothing to say. He set the prototype aside.

“You’re right, of course. I should have realised...I’m sorry. I wanted to make the best prosthetic I could. I didn’t think. I’m sorry.” Cid bowed his head a moment, then set about packing up the prototype. He still treated it more gently than a newborn, Nanamo noted.

Raubahn seemed somewhat taken-aback without an opportunity to vent more of his anger, but cheered up a little now that it was clear he wasn’t going to be roped into using a magitek prosthetic. He gave a quick, apologetic grin to Nanamo. “You didn’t have to come and visit me, you know.”

“I know.” Nanamo smiled back at him, then added, “and if I can keep you from maiming our best engineer too, that’s a bonus.”

“I’d like that, too,” Cid interjected. “I could make you a more traditional prosthetic, if you like? By the Twelve, there are certainly plenty of Ala Mhigan surgeons here I could consult with. Limited functionality, of course…”

But Raubahn was shaking his head, staring down at his residual arm, still in padded bandages for the aborted fitting. Nanamo saw several different emotions flickering in his eyes and the set of his jaw, but she couldn’t have named most of them. More than anything, she recognised bone-deep exhaustion.

“I’ll train to fight with one arm, or I’m not worthy to fight at all. I don’t want a prosthetic.”

_Ah, that’s it. We’ve all had a lot to do, but he’s been training too hard as well, the idiot._

“Are you sure? There is a time limit for fitting prosthetics, and I’m already pushing it-”

“I’m sure.” Raubahn looked directly at Cid again. His tone was a lot calmer but his eyes still burned. Cid made no more argument.

“And now,” Raubahn turned back to Nanamo, holding out his arm towards the door in a courtly gesture from another, simpler time, “I must go back to my work. You wanted something, Nanamo?”

Raubahn clearly wanted to be anywhere but this lab. Nanamo couldn’t blame him. She matched his casual tone, replying as they left, “Yes. I’ve had a message from Lord Haurchefant, promising support and materials, but he offered to send weapons too and I think you’d be best placed to evaluate our needs-”

Nanamo broke off as she turned into the largest clearing of the Little Ala Mhigo mesa; greeted by the sight of Gundobald and his top lieutenants dropping to one knee for her, she lost her train of thought.

“What’s this? What are you about, Gundobald?” She suspected she knew all too well, but she wanted to give herself a chance for hope. For Gundobald to say that he was kneeling for any other reason but the one that frightened her.

“My lady.” Gundobald levered himself stiffly to his feet – he was old enough to be retiring by a comfortable fire, not in this sandswept hole – and made a salute.

“I have been in conference with my men this morning. In gratitude for the place you have made for us in your land, and in the hope of a more equal Ul’dah, we have unanimously agreed to swear ourselves to your cause. We are yours to command, lady.”

Nanamo caught her breath. _Gods, no. I don’t have a cause. I’m just trying to survive. I’m not fit to lead, I’m not..._ Dimly, she realised she was making faint, but entirely proper and pretty responses to Gundobald. It was as if the last few months had never been, as though she was back in her throne room as she accepted their fealty – almost as though she were back with her tutors as a small child being trained for a role that was far beyond her. She could feel her heavy robes of state again, and had to remind herself to take deep, unrestricted breaths. Perhaps her strict schooling would form her habits to her deathbed, she wondered. She sensed Raubahn moving closer behind her, his solid presence a comfort, as always.

She finished with “...and you and your men do me great honour, Gundobald. However, I must get back to my work and I do not want to keep you from yours. Excuse me.”

What began as a sedate walk became a harried stride, became a trot, and by the time they reached Nanamo’s office she was almost stumbling in her haste to reach some relative privacy, Raubahn at her side. She could feel tears coursing down her face, but she didn’t care. No one would dare to intrude in her office, now that she’d been elevated above the others again. All her plans, all that they had gone through – the terrible, terrible cost – and _still_ there were people pledging their lives to her, promising to fight for her.

To anyone who was a stranger to Little Ala Mhigo, she was merely Lilira. To the locals who knew her true identity she was no longer an individual but an object of devotion. She could make sense of it now: the way passages were cleared of crowds for her, when the best rations were reserved for her – and when the scouting parties dedicated themselves to her.

_I will not send anyone else to die for me._

“Why do they still promise themselves to me? I couldn’t even abdicate my throne on my own terms! I know the gossip – I was weak, a puppet controlled by the Syndicate. And they were right! Tell me, _General_ , what tactical advantage is there in protecting something of no value?”

Raubahn winced at the cutting derision in Nanamo’s voice, but she had turned away from him, flinging her arms out in despair.

“What use is this? Any of this? Why am I even here, when so many of our allies died? So many friends, Raubahn, stronger and braver than I will ever be...all gone. So that I can cower in the desert and collect more blind fools-”

“Nanamo, that’s enough!”

Raubahn had never spoken so sharply to her before, and Nanamo turned to look at him again. He had knelt down beside her, reaching out to touch her arm, but what truly stunned her was the pain on his face. Raubahn regularly shrugged off sparring injuries with barely a frown, steadily ignoring his blood dribbling onto the practice sands to rise and keep training, to keep pushing himself. Even in Cid’s lab he was resolute rather than daunted. Yet now he was in the deepest pain – and showing it. _I do not_ _like this look on his face_ _._

“How dare you talk about yourself that way! You are a symbol to everyone here, of hope, of finding shelter from the storm. Or have you forgotten where we are?” Raubahn’s hand had been gripping Nanamo’s shoulder, but now he kept running it along her arm, stroking gently, trying to soothe her.

“You are important, Nanamo!” Raubahn’s voice was shaking now, no longer furious, teetering on something far more vulnerable, and infinitely more dangerous. “If their plan had worked, if you hadn’t made it...I – _we_ would be lost.” His arm was moving faster, desperately trying to express something beyond words. He abruptly grabbed her shoulder again, pulled her closer, and growled, “You matter to us. _All_ of us.”

Raubahn looked away from her face, then, and all the anger drained out of him. “I have nightmares about that day. What might have happened to you if...if the Warrior of Light hadn’t succeeded. I couldn’t bear it.”

There was nothing Nanamo could say. She reached around to rest her hand on Raubahn’s, and he looked her in the eyes once more. There was something odd about his expression, something intent and urgent and, annoyingly, she could feel a warm flush rising up her face as he looked at her. They were close enough for Nanamo to study the scars on his face, and without thinking she reached up to trace one. She found herself wishing she had time to map every one of them – they had made Raubahn who he was, and she wanted to know them all. Raubahn wiped away her tears and placed his hand on the back of her neck, running a broad thumb over tense muscles. It felt wonderful. She moved to rest her forehead against his, feeling heavy with exhaustion, and let her eyes drift shut.

Nanamo had, for the most part, recovered from the illness that was the poison’s parting gift, but her energy was still erratic. She tired more quickly now, and her new, mistrustful life kept her far more occupied than her old one. _When was the last time I could truly rest?_

Raubahn’s voice quirked around a weak smile. “I will not have you crying any more, not if I can help it. These eyes are meant for better things than shedding tears.”

She meant to smile back at him, she really did, but somehow ended up leaning against his shoulder instead, and drifting off into a doze. She barely registered when he picked her up and carryied her to her private chamber. At some point, she’d turned over on her pillow and seen Raubahn settling into a guard stance outside her door. She didn’t remember falling asleep.

***

It was dark when Nanamo woke, but she could make out a few dim shapes in her room and there was a suggestion of lighter grey in the eastern sky. She realised she’d drooled on her pillow and hastily turned it over to the dry side.

She had laid down again, shifting back into her comfortable nest of blankets when a soft, human noise jerked her into full wakefulness.

She scrabbled for her dagger, sitting beside her bed according to new, stern routine. The _screee_ as she took it out of its sheath seemed too loud and incautious in the silence. She opened her eyes as wide as they would go, trying to see…

A small grunt, a creak of armour as massive shoulders shifted. “Go back to sleep, Nanamo.”

“Raubahn? You’ve been here all night?”

Another grunt, this time with a suggestion of a chuckle to it. “I’ve had the pages bringing me coffee. It’s still early, you should rest a little longer.”

She sighed, and re-sheathed her dagger. “I’m awake, now, anyway. How long was I asleep? I don’t remember-”

And then she did, all of it. Gundobald’s pledge to her, her despair, their conversation...the look in Raubahn’s eyes as he stood close. She cast around for something else to think about, grateful that in the pre-dawn dark no one could see her blushing again.

“...Raubahn?”

“Mm?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the nightmares sooner?”

Raubahn got to his feet, stretching out his shoulders where they’d stiffened overnight. In the gloom, his movements reminded her of moving mountains of sand, dunes crumbling and cascading in slow grandeur. He came and sat cross-legged on the floor next to Nanamo’s bed, leaned his head back and rested it against the cave wall. He was gathering...not his courage, but his thoughts, it seemed, because he took several deep, slow breaths before answering.

“You know how I lost my homeland. We will never forgive, and we will never forget. But, compared to...to that night…” he paused again to take a steadying breath, to try to calm his shaking.”Nothing terrified me more than when I thought you’d gone. And nothing had ever made me more _angry._ I tried so hard to fight for you, and yet in the end,” he held out his residual arm, “I couldn’t help you.”

“Now look at me. I can’t remember the last time I got any decent sleep. By the Twelve, I know you need me alert, but I thought…” He let out a gasp that, from anyone else, Nanamo would have named a sob. “You have enough to deal with, without my problems as well.”

The room was getting lighter now. Nanamo could see Raubahn’s shoulders heaving with pain, and she saw his arm was pebbled with goosebumps. No amount of clever engineering could keep the night-time chill out of their sanctuary, and she wondered vaguely why he hadn’t thought to provision himself with something suitable for the cold.

“Lean forward.”

“What?”

“Just do it.” _Stubborn ass,_ she managed not to say out loud.

From her height on the bed she just managed to loop a blanket around his shoulders, before hopping down and pulling it tight around his shoulders. She hesitated a fraction, then stepped into the crook between his legs and hugged him around the neck.

“It’s not weakness to admit you’re in pain. But you are an idiot for not telling me sooner! We work together, right? How can I help you if I don’t know what’s going on? And-” Nanamo disengaged her arms and leaned back to look him in the eye, “and you’re not the only one having nightmares.” She bit her lip and lowered her gaze. “I keep feeling my throat swelling and closing up again. Even during the day, it happens. I keep seeing the room blurring and spinning and I can’t do _anything,_ I’m falling into fog and there’s no one to catch me-” she broke off, squeezing her eyes shut to blot out the images crowding her mind.

The silence stretches between them, but she can hear that Raubahn’s breathing, at least, has eased up a bit. This time, he reaches out to hold her close. She rests against him and lets the slow rise and fall of his chest soothe her. She pretends not to notice the thud of his heartbeat reverberating through her body, pretends that it doesn’t set her own pulse racing.

They sit together for a long time, feeling the room fill up with warmth again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some truths cannot be hidden.

It’s been almost two weeks since Raubahn told Nanamo about his fears. Two weeks since he’d almost told her everything else: that a glimpse of his life without her in it had terrified him beyond anything else. Of his need for her, not as a Sultana, nor Lilira the rebel-symbol, but as a woman.

Their talk at sunrise had been anything but sexual, but Raubahn can’t get it out of his head – how Nanamo had felt, curled into his chest and enfolded in his arm. How holding her had brought the closest thing to peace he’s known for a long time. How it had felt to carry her to bed, and his longing to join her, to curl around her and doze off to the sound of her breath, making a barrier of himself between Nanamo and the world. How it had hurt to turn, and walk away to a fucking _respectable_ distance, like always.

He is keenly aware of the precarious edge they walk along, how abruptly a new betrayal could turn his world into a nightmare again. But he can’t bring himself to be in the same room as Nanamo, let alone to tell her the truth he’s realised. Apart from anything else, Raubahn is noticing more and more the opportunities he _could_ take to be alone with Nanamo – if he had the courage. And, of course, if she even felt the same way.

Since Gundobald’s pledge of loyalty Nanamo has been struggling to adjust to being in command again, struggling to keep up the appearance of what everyone believes her to be. To reject Gundobald would dishonour them both and Nanamo would never go that far, but Raubahn can see how much it’s costing her. He wishes he could give her more support, but he’s been preoccupied to the point of uselessness.

Standing by her desk to read a report quickly turns into wondering whether he could reach her shoulder if he tried, to give her a reassuring touch between projects. Before he knows it, Raubahn has spent an entire afternoon thinking about giving Nanamo a hug, a shoulder rub, a caress...whatever he can think of that she would like.

And so Raubahn keeps his distance, before he loses track of things completely. Nanamo’s clearly realised that he needs space, and bless her, as always she’s given him what he needs and can’t ask for.

Now, if only his own brain could give him that same courtesy. Raubahn still has nightmares – he has seen enough of battle to know that it will take far longer than a handful of weeks for _those_ to subside – but there are new dreams creeping in, achingly vivid dreams of what might be if he could could be brave enough. Of Nanamo, and him, together.

This night, he’s woken up with a gasp, panting, shivering, with a half-hard erection and a new vision of Nanamo draining into his memory. The dream had been worse than usual, more explicit. Nanamo stood between his legs, her arms around him like before. But in his dream, he had courage. In his dream, he kissed her, trying to drive away their remembered terror with something much better. She had responded beautifully, moaning, arching her body against his, and running her hands down his chest to...

Raubahn grumbled, and rolled over onto his stomach. If he was going to try to get back to sleep, this was exactly the wrong way to go about it.

Even uncomfortable pressure was not going to get rid of his erection, he realised, and rolled back onto his side. Probably the best thing was to finish himself off quickly, and then maybe he could get some gods-damned sleep. He shoved his hand into his trousers and began stroking, trying to think of nothing but the feel of his calloused hand, the chill of the night air on his skin

_\- Nanamo sitting astride his thigh, running two oil-slicked hands along the length of his cock, her eyes and palms alive with delight, making slow, firm movements on a body that dwarfed hers, grinning every time she coaxed a twitch out of him -_

Raubahn’s breathing was uneven now. He hurriedly spat on his hand, then resumed his pace.

_Nanamo next to him, watching while he pleasured himself, directing his hand and his enjoyment on her whim, breathlessly encouraging him while she caressed him and squirmed alongside him -_

_\- Nanamo straddling his face, her moans obscenely loud while he teased her with his tongue -_

_\- Nanamo gazing into his eyes, her own hazy with need – Nanamo scratching her fingernails into his shoulders as she holds onto him for support – Nanamo’s body clenching around his fingers – Nanamo moaning his name – Nanamo writhing beneath him – Nanamo, Nanamo, Nanamo…_

Raubahn came with a groan, shuddering while he pumped out the last of his orgasm. He lay for a while, catching his breath, then groaned into his pillow again when he realised that he’d have to change his sheets before he could go back to sleep. _Some plan this was._

Tomorrow he would have to look Nanamo in the eye and pretend he hadn’t just had a wank about her the night before. As he wrapped himself up in his travelling cloak and tried to drift off to sleep, Raubahn caught himself hoping that maybe Dalamud might fall again in the night and save him the trouble.

***

“Your pretence is useless. We know you are sheltering the fugitive Nanamo. Return her to the Crystal Braves, or suffer deadly consequences.”

Nanamo’s glass-shielded candle made dancing shadows on the wall of her office as she considered how the note could have reached her. There’d been very little movement in the settlement as she’d picked her way through, an occasional night-guard nodding respectfully to her as she passed. Everyone else was asleep, or out hunting.

Nanamo preferred the night shift. They were so focussed on their watch that they had no time or will for scraping. To them, she was just another citizen. No one had stood out as behaving oddly, or out-of-breath. _Of course, I could have walked past them without realising anyway._ She briefly gripped the handle of her dagger in its belt-sheath, reassuring herself that if an assailant did try to surprise her in the quiet of night, she would not let them remain quiet for long. She knew better than to name herself a fighter, but drilling with the scouts had at least given her claws. Her chances in a fight were as good as a wild animal, now. _The question then becomes: who hunts me?_

The note had been placed on her chair, where a casual glance into Nanamo’s office wouldn’t have revealed it. It was meant to reach Nanamo first, and no one else. Odd, then, that it was written for someone else’s eyes, probably Gundobald’s. Perhaps they wanted to frighten her, give the note time to unnerve her before she reported it.

In that case, she could assume that she was being watched by unfriendly eyes, even within Little Ala Mhigo that had seemed such a safe refuge. She supposed it was inevitable that the secret would get out. _If they expect me to cower in fear because of a note, they are sorely mistaken._

Even with the perpetual complement of the sick and injured, there were far more capable warriors here than anyone could suspect, and a few other surprises for raiders. If they wished, the residents of Little Ala Mhigo could repel attackers of far greater number than their own. _But if there’s a spy, they’ll know our defences. They’ll know everything!_

Nanamo shook herself. It helped nothing, worrying like this by herself, and played into her enemy’s hands as well. That, she would not permit.

Within her office itself, Nanamo could be fairly sure that she was not being observed. The new measures Raubahn had taken for her safety made sure of that. Any evidence of spying in her office would have the culprit immediately found and punished, and she guessed that the risk of premature discovery would be too great for her enemies to consider attempting it.

She had originally chafed at Raubahn’s heightened concern for her safety; it felt too much like the prison of silk and perfume she’d been trapped in since she was born. Raubahn had argued that since Gundobald’s pledge she might become a target again, and now she blessed his foresight.

In any case, without witnesses to the contrary she could pretend that she’d missed the note, in the dark and in her perusal of the reports she’d originally come to check. She carefully folded the note up and placed it back the way she’d found it, grabbed another sheaf of papers and ostentatiously flipped through them as she sauntered back to her chambers. She even cheerfully returned greetings from the second night-shift, just beginning their turn at the watch and still finishing their coffee.

But Nanamo made sure her dagger was unobstructed and ready to draw at a seconds notice. If there was a spy in Little Ala Mhigo, she would not rest until they had been rooted out. It was her turn to hunt.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nanamo has to remind herself that high-born ladies do not use their fists.

With the regular clashing noises of steel, grunts of pain, and bellowed commands from the field sergeants, the drilling field was the best place that Nanamo could find to talk to Raubahn without being overheard. She’d accosted him on his way to the mess hall that morning, impatiently watched him drink three cups of coffee in succession, and dragged him outside on an “inspection” of the new recruits.

Even in the fresh air, Raubahn still looked like he was struggling to shake off sleep. Nanamo hadn’t slept either, but made a pretence of it: rolling up in her blankets in the dark and keeping her breathing even. She’d spent the time thinking things over: who to talk to first, and how to do it without tipping off the watchers. What their end goal could be. She’d not reached any answers, but at least she’d had a head start of a few hours before she officially “found” the threatening note.

She handed it to Raubahn. “I found this in my office last night.”

Raubahn read the note, gripping it so hard he nearly tore it, his jaw clenched.

“Bastards...”

Nanamo could see the same calculations she’d made flickering in his face, but without a guarantee of private speech for them to plan, there was little they could do.

“We need a reason to meet in private, Raubahn. Regular meetings, and not in Little Ala Mhigo. There will be listeners-”

Nanamo broke off and cast a hunted look around the practise field. No one appeared to be paying them any mind; the lads were currently watching someone being entertainingly insulted by a sergeant. He was barely older than a boy, and close to tears with his humiliation. Despite herself, Nanamo watched them for a time, wishing that she could run to the boy, promise him that everything would be okay, but it wasn’t her place to interfere with training. _It’s not my place to make promises like that, either._ Raubahn had noticed her looking, must have seen the stricken expression on her face.

“Battle isn’t kind, Nanamo. The sergeants try to prepare these boys for something that you can never be ready for. I know it doesn’t look it, but they’re trying to take care of them.” His tone was gentle, and Nanamo wondered if he was remembering his own early training. She sniffed, pinched the bridge of her nose, and steeled herself to look away from the tearful recruit.

“What if your room was next to mine?”

“What?”

“Your bedchamber next to mine. I can’t think of anyone better-suited to guarding me! I don’t know why we didn’t set it up earlier.” Nanamo grinned up at him, trying to lighten the mood, but Raubahn looked deeply uncomfortable.

“I would not want to disturb you. Apparently, I talk in my sleep. And...and you need your privacy, too.”

Nanamo stared, lost as to what he was getting at, but then she realised and burst out laughing. It didn’t help. Raubahn still looked as though he’d sat on a poker.

“Honestly, Raubahn, you worry too much. It’s not like I’ve got many opportunities for...for _dallying!_ ” She giggled again. “I’ll hear no more argument. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re nearby, anyway. But there’s still the problem of where we can talk privately. Any ideas?”

“I could take a hand in your training. Drilling with the men is all very well, but have you been in the wild yet? We could go hunting, get some practise and supply the hamlet at the same time. The Twelve know, I know this country like the back of my hand.” Raubahn seemed quite pleased with himself for the idea, as well as the change of subject. _It’s not as though I’ve had any better ideas, after all._

“What’s this? Training, my lady? Surely you’ve earned a rest.” Unnoticed by either of them, Gundobald had stepped alongside Nanamo, trailed by two lieutenants – one hyur and one lalafellin. He smiled down at her. “I’ve been looking for you, my lady. I would like to introduce you to my new lieutenant – my right-hand man, and I beg you would consider him as such if I am away. You know Nate already,” the Hyur nodded to her, “and this is Tomomo Momo. He’s just joined us from Ul’dah, and brought us fresh intelligence as well. His reports have already been of the utmost help.”

Tomomo’s lance towered above him as he swept a courtly bow. “Delighted to make your acquaintance, my lady. May I?” Before Nanamo could react, he had grabbed her hand and kissed it. “I look forward to getting to know you...Lilira.” Bent over her hand, where no one else could see, he caught her eye and winked. She hurriedly retrieved her hand, trying not to shudder. Tomomo’s meaning was quite plain. _Gross._

Without missing a beat, Tomomo turned to greet Raubahn. “And the famed Flame General! What an honour! I followed your career with great interest, you know. So inspiring. What do you say to a sparring match? I’m sure Gundobald won’t mind, and if we are both to work for the Lady Lilira, she’d better see how we match, no?”

“Work for me..?” Nanamo didn’t like the sound of that, but was cut off by Gundobald clapping his hands together.

“What a good idea! Let’s clear the field.”

Nanamo could only meet Raubahn’s eyes as he was ushered away. She could tell that he liked Tomomo as little as she did, and Raubahn tried to give a reassuring nod. But as she lined up with the recruits and sergeants alongside the practice sands, she couldn’t shake off her unease. _This is planned, somehow._

Gundobald gave the starting signal, and Nanamo tried to tell herself that she needn’t have worried. Tomomo kept trying to rush Raubahn, wasting the advantage of range that his lance gave him over Raubahn’s sword. Tomomo obviously hadn’t trained with the Ishgardians, didn’t have the leaping attacks that she’d heard so much about. Yet each time that Raubahn fended off a new attack, the tension grew until Nanamo could almost touch it, taut and thick and threatening. And then, Tomomo made a mistake in his footwork, Raubahn tripped him over, and his lance went skidding away over the sand.

The field was filled with raucous cheers, but Nanamo didn’t join in. Tomomo was already clambering to his feet and running to retrieve his lance, red-faced and nearly spitting with fury. Raubahn stood still, paying no attention to the praise that the recruits heaped on him, only a sheen of sweat on his forehead to show his exertion. He was watching Tomomo intently as well, still keeping his guard up.

“Hah! Good one!” a recruit yelled. “Did you see his face?”

Nanamo just had. She’d never felt like laughing less.

The yells died down as Raubahn and Tomomo glared at each other. Tomomo was clutching his lance for support, heaving for breath, and Nanamo knew that Raubahn was deliberately waiting, giving him the chance to recover. _Honour is wasted on this one, Raubahn. He’s planning something. Don’t let him-_

But Tomomo was rushing Raubahn again, a look of cruel cunning on his face. His earlier exhaustion was apparently faked, for he was moving with more vigour than ever. Just as Raubahn lifted his sword to parry another strike, Tomomo abruptly changed path and slammed the flat of his lance blade against the stump of Raubahn’s arm.

Raubahn’s sword dropped. He fell to his knees, face white. The field fell silent. Tomomo sneered down at Raubahn before turning and strolling away. He grinned at Nanamo again as he passed, his lance waving like a peacock’s tail.

 _Bastard!_ Nanamo ran to Raubahn, pretending not to notice Tomomo’s anger at being ignored. Raubahn was panting, clutching his residual arm, face still deathly pale.

“Raubahn, come on, we’ve got to get you to Cid’s, get up...please-” Nanamo whirled around, looking for the nearest sergeant and spat, “Help me! Get him to Garlond’s lab!”

It took two men to carry Raubahn between them, and another to collect his sword. Nanamo trotted after them through the passages. It was too easy to feel useless, to easy to feel like this was her fault, somehow, and so she distracted herself from her fear by making up curses for bloody Tomomo Momo of Ul’dah. _If he tries to kiss my hand again I’ll punch him._

Raubahn had recovered some of his colour when he was deposited on a table in Cid’s lab, but he was shaking now, and still worryingly quiet. Nanamo dismissed the sergeants, and was explaining to Biggs and Wedge what had happened when Cid walked in.

Cid took a look at Nanamo’s face, Raubahn’s shock, and swallowed whatever cheerful greeting he’d been about to use.

“Right, numbing agents, and you can tell me how he got into this state, Nanamo,” Cid was already bustling through his supplies, and Nanamo repeated the story of the sparring match.

“I think, no, I’m _certain_ Tomomo did it deliberately, Cid. You didn’t see his face, he was planning it all right from the start.”

Cid shook his head, holding a cloth soaked with something that smelled foul to Raubahn’s residual arm. “Fuck. At least there’s no permanent damage, as far as I can tell, but it’s going to be swollen and more sensitive for a while. Anyone home, Raubahn?”

Raubahn was flexing his fingers, trying to keep them out of Cid’s way while he worked, but he clearly wanted to hold onto his arm again.

“I think so. Never felt anything like that before.” His voice was pale too, washed-out and quiet, and he was refusing to meet Nanamo’s eye. She longed to jump up on the table next to him, sit beside him and tell him how she was going to make Tomomo pay for hurting him. It would have involved cacti in uncomfortable places.

“I’m going to wrap it in bandages again, Raubahn, just to keep the swelling down. I’d tell you to lay off the sparring for a while, but...” Cid grinned, and gripped Raubahn’s shoulder. “I know better than that. Just maybe not with this guy again, hmm?”

“Tomomo, you said? Tomomo Momo?” Wedge was scrunching up his face in recollection. “I thought I heard his name yesterday, actually.”

Nanamo snorted. “Astonish me. Tell me he did something decent.”

“Apparently he was just bragging about all the women he’s had. I didn’t think anything of it, really. Just the usual boasting, you know?”

“And he really did arrive recently? From Ul’dah?”

“From what I’ve heard, yes. There’s a lot of gossip about him already. I suppose he’s good-looking, in a way, and after the entrance he’s made, people are going to talk.”

Nanamo sank down onto a chair, wondering. _Did Tomomo leave the note? Or is he the one sent to make sure the demands are met? Or is he a distraction? Or-_

“Wedge, can you keep an ear out for me? Anything odd about this man, I want to know.”

“Of course, Nanamo. Um...is everything alright?”

“No.”

_Or he was sent to get Raubahn out of the way._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, apparently I get a lot of inspiration when I'm jet-lagged.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inch by inch, Nanamo is determined to get to the truth.

“I talk in my sleep,” Raubahn had said, and it turned out that he wasn’t exaggerating. Nanamo had lost track of how many times she’d dozed off, only to be jerked awake again. She had gotten over-heated from tossing and turning, and still she could hear Raubahn from the next room.

 _Should I wake him?_ But Raubahn would only say that it proved his point: he was unfit to stay near Nanamo after all. Besides, he’d only just started acting normally around her since he told her about his nightmares. Nanamo would rather go without sleep completely than have him isolate himself again.

No, she had asked for this. Now she would just have to get used to it. It always took time to get comfortable sleeping near someone else, right? She grinned to herself, remembering the first few times she’d shared her bed, only to be poked awake a few hours later to have her lover demand their share of the blankets back.

But Raubahn’s mutterings were getting louder, more distressed – and Nanamo could make out words now: _stop,_ and _I can’t,_ and _gods, please no,_ _help me._ She could hear muffled thuds; pillows thrown aside and the creaking noises of a tortured bed.

Nanamo was padding into Raubahn’s room before she realised it. She could sense him in the dark, nearly thrashing now. She reached out to stroke his forehead. It took a few attempts before she could find a place to stand where his movements wouldn’t knock her away.

Nanamo began running her hand up to his hairline before starting at his brow again, slow and gentle, again and again.

Raubahn had picked out his braids before bed; Nanamo could feel his hair as a tangled mess beneath her hands. She set about combing her fingers through it as Raubahn began to still under her touch, gradually working out the more obvious knots. She was lulling herself with the rhythm, but even better, Raubahn was calming down as well. Mesmerised, she began running her hands through his hair just for the feel of it, caressing his forehead, running her hands along to his jaw, feeling the strength of him…

_Shit._

Nanamo withdrew her hands as though burned, and heard Raubahn give a small sigh as she darted back to her room. She wrapped herself in her blankets again, trying to still her trembling. Her fingers kept twitching as though they, too, wanted to touch Raubahn again.

The sound of Raubahn in deep sleep was no longer the soporific Nanamo had hoped for. _Shit._

* * *

Nanamo’s mood was not improved by the sight of Tomomo Momo outside her office the next morning.

“Good morning, my lady!” Another ridiculous bow, but at least he had the sense not to grab her hand again.

“That remains to be seen. What do you need, Tomomo?”

Nanamo had risen early and left before Raubahn woke up. She had deliberately not looked at him on her way out, but it didn’t help. Her imagination supplied the images anyway: Raubahn, relaxed and comfortable. Raubahn, feeling safe enough to let his guard down, perhaps with a sleepy smile...

Nanamo had already exhausted her daily reserves of self-control, and it wasn’t even a bell after sunrise.

“What do _you_ need, my lady? I’ve come to offer my services!” Tomomo’s grin stayed fixed in place as Nanamo folded her arms and glared at him.

“Is that all?” She was probably being too curt, but Nanamo couldn’t find it in herself to care, no matter how much fresh intelligence Tomomo had brought with him.

“Gundobald sent me to assist you in any way necessary, my lady.” He took a step closer, his grin widening. “Anything you need at all.”

Nanamo leaned back, bumping into the wall behind her. “Stop calling me ‘my lady,’ to start with. And I’d like to hear these reports you brought with you that were so _helpful_.”

“As you wish...Nanamo.” Nanamo wished she hadn’t insisted he use her name; he said it with such lascivious delight that she felt like she needed to wash again.

“As for the reports, well, I passed them all along to Gundobald. I’m sure you don’t need to worry yourself about them.” He took another step closer, trapping Nanamo against the wall. “There are plenty of other things we could discuss instead.”

“Ah, Tomomo. Excellent timing. We need the background checks for the new recruits completed by lunch.”

Nanamo hadn’t noticed Raubahn arriving, but then neither had Tomomo. She was delighted to see him yelp in surprise, stumbling around to see Raubahn towering over him.

“Raubahn! No hard feelings about yesterday, eh?” Tomomo held out his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation Raubahn took it.

“Right. No hard feelings.” Raubahn’s voice was cold, as harsh as the mountains.

There was a pause. Nanamo could hear the bones in Tomomo’s hand protesting in a crushing handshake, and only just managed to keep her face neutral.

Tomomo wrung his hand, finally dispensing with his smile, and countered, “Battle is not kind, after all.”

Nanamo was grateful for the wall behind her. She didn’t think she could support her weight, just then. The echo of Raubahn’s words was not a coincidence. _What else did he hear?_

“As it happens, Nanamo and I have business with Gundobald. You’ll find everything you need In her desk. We’ll be back later,” and Raubahn swept Nanamo out of the room.

“Are you okay?” Raubahn murmured, once they were at a safe distance. Nanamo was beginning to shake, and she pulled him aside to wait for the worst of the trembling to pass.

“Hateful man! I’m alright, though. But didn’t you finish the background checks yesterday?”

Raubahn grinned suddenly, feral and victorious. Passers-by scuttled further away. “Yup. But he doesn’t know that, does he? If he’s so determined to push himself in, he’s going to regret it.”

* * *

“Deadly consequences’? But the Crystal Braves are much less active now, all our reports confirmed it...”

The morning sunlight that made the silver in Gundobald’s hair luminescent also highlighted the creases in his skin, the damage left by decades of responsibility and stress, but he was scrutinising Nanamo’s note with as much vigour as young Nate River was, standing behind him.

“They may have reduced their operations now because they know exactly where to look. And excuse me, but _whose_ reports confirm it? I have grave doubts about Tomomo.”

Gundobald sighed. “To be honest, Nanamo, I had hoped that he would behave better with you to inspire him. He wouldn’t be the first young man we’ve had with an inflated idea of his importance. But he obviously has a long way to go, and especially after yesterday,” he cast an apologetic look at Raubahn, “I think I over-estimated his ability to turn a new leaf.”

“However, Tomomo is not our only source of news. _All_ our scouts have been reporting fewer Brave movements lately. Now we have a guess as to why.”

“So you don’t think that he is a danger?” Nanamo’s skin crawled at the prospect of any more association with Tomomo, however distant.

“Only to the wenches!” Nate quipped, but he soon sobered at the look on Nanamo’s face. “Sorry, my lady. But I’d heard of him even when I was still in Ul’dah. He’s all feathers and no chocobo. I think the only reason he beat Raubahn yesterday is due to his, ah, tactics than any real fighting skill.”

“His greatest value to us was as a recent set of eyes from the civilians’ point of view.” Gundobald shook his head ruefully. “And he certainly seemed eager to serve. I had been planning to send him back into Ul’dah, after some training here. Perhaps it’s best that he return sooner.”

“Please see to it, Gundobald. You weren’t to know how badly he’d turn out, but he is _not_ to be my assistant any longer. And the fact remains that there is at least one spy in Little Ala Mhigo. I would suggest stricter screening for new volunteers, except-”

“-except that they may have been here for some time already.” Gundobald finished for her. “I will think on it.”

“In the meantime, there is still the matter of who else can assist you-” he raised a finger at Nanamo’s first noises of protest. “There is already more work than you and Raubahn can deal with, especially if you plan to train harder from now on. Oh, I have no intention of stopping you,” he added, smiling at her look of surprise. “Even if I wanted to, I know full well that I could not stop you doing anything you set your mind to. But I think it is an excellent idea to learn to defend yourself. You are already in the best of hands, there.” He nodded at Raubahn.

“But I do _not_ want it to become common knowledge that you are leaving to hunt. It would be far easier to attack you, out in the desert. To that end, someone who can cover for your absence will be even more valuable. I have a few recruits in mind – there are a few for whom it’s already clear their strengths are not in battle.”

Nanamo thought of the boy she had seen yesterday. _If I had my way, no one would be sent to fight._ _Even saving a few_ _people_ _is more than I could hope for._

“Thank you, Gundobald. We could use the help; I’ll see those recruits later. For now, I could do with some fresh air. Raubahn and I will be hunting.”

Gundobald nodded again, his expression solemn. “Yes, I think that’s best. I doubt Tomomo will take his reassignment gracefully. Until later, my la- Nanamo.”

Nanamo smiled up at him. Between Tomomo’s removal, the prospect of her first hunt, and one less ‘my lady’ from Gundobald, her morning was already improving.

* * *

Nanamo was wrapping her face for the open desert when Nate found them again, his face drained of colour.

“Have you seen Tomomo? He wasn’t in your office when I looked, and it’s been turned upside-down. Someone’s been searching it.”

“What? He’s missing? _” I wish I could say good riddance._ But this was bad. There was nothing sensitive left in her office, but still…

“I must check if anything’s missing. We haven’t seen him leave by this gate; try asking the other guards too.”

Nate bowed hurriedly, then scurried off again. Raubahn had already stripped off his desert gear, and he soon made quick work of Nanamo’s hood; her hands were trembling too much to be of any use. She was running over everything she’d kept in her office – just because it seemed trivial to her, didn’t mean it was useless to her enemies. And the thought of Tomomo made free to move at will was...was enough to make her very glad she’d insisted on Raubahn staying near her chambers.

Before she could run off, she felt Raubahn’s hand on her shoulder, and turned to see him kneeling down to her level.

“It’ll be okay, Nanamo. I won’t let him near you.” He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, then stood up again before she could respond. It was probably just as well; the state she was in now, Nanamo wouldn’t put it past herself to say something stupid.

All the times that Raubahn had been there for her, giving his support in every way he could – the way he looked at her – all of it was adding up to...to _something_.

_I have to talk to him._ _Soon._

* * *

Nanamo’s office looked like one of Cid’s experiments had gone horribly wrong. She and Raubahn began sorting and tidying, as she racked her brain to try to think of anything that might interest an enemy. Eventually they were able to account for the most recent papers, but as Nanamo began to sift through the older reports – _Why would he want them anyway? Surely they’d be outdated_ – she thought of something else.

“Lord Haurchefant’s messages!”

“Why would he want those?”

“I don’t know! But it’s the only thing I can think of. And I don’t know if I locked them in Gundobald’s safe or not...”

Raubahn swore, and began checking for Haurchefant’s seal. Nanamo focussed on searching her files from two weeks ago for Haurchefant’s distinctive handwriting. Finally, as the sun was well on the way to setting:

“...they’re gone.” She collapsed into her chair. Raubahn gave a deep sigh, and started collecting together the mess of papers.

“Why would the Braves want the messages from Lord Haurchefant anyway? Ishgard is malms away! Damn, it’s probably too late to warn him to stop the shipments, too.”

“Nanamo, the caravan has to go through Mor Dhona. They’ll be equipped to deal with trouble. And we could always ask the Warrior to escort them, too.”

“But they’ll _know_ all of that. What use are the letters now? They know I’m here, they know the caravan’s too well-protected for attack...what’s left?”

“There is something, but you’re not going to like it. Evidence. They may try to discredit Lord Haurchefant in some way. The letters are proof he’s collaborating with a fugitive. In the wrong hands, well...you know how Ishgardians are.”

As a matter of fact, Nanamo did not know how Ishgardians were, not first-hand, but she knew the stereotype. Insular. Devout. From what the Warrior of Light had said, Lord Haurchefant was different, but that may mean he was already in a weaker position in his country.

“Nanamo, if the Crystal Braves are involving themselves in Ishgardian politics, this is big. Too big for us.”

“But it’s my fault! I’ve put Haurchefant in danger! We have to help, try to undo the damage I’ve done!”

“ _Listen to me._ ” Raubahn had moved to sit next to Nanamo’s chair.

“You cannot risk putting yourself in the hands of the Holy See. I’ve seen them conduct interrogations: they will twist anything you say. There is no way to win against them. And if you leave, the Braves will use this to confirm you as a traitor to Ul’dah. The price is too high, Nanamo.”

“I am not going to _abandon_ Haurchefant, not when I’ve put him in this mess. He said nothing about the risks, I had no idea-”

“Exactly. This is a choice that _he_ made. You didn’t force him. The best we can do is ask the Warrior to protect him; he has a good reputation with the Holy See, and if I guess right, he’s based in Ishgard anyway.”

“But-”

“Do you doubt the Warrior’s ability?” Somehow, Raubahn had moved closer. He was only ilms away from Nanamo’s face, and she was having trouble keeping focussed.

“No, but...but I hate feeling so powerless, Raubahn. I _hate_ it.”

“I know. I know.” Raubahn’s face was full of compassion, tender and warm, and before Nanamo could think better of it she’d closed the gap between them to kiss him. She felt him jerk in surprise, and twined her fingers in his hair to keep him close.

Eventually, she drew back again. Raubahn looked like he’d been clubbed on the head. All she could read in his face was shock.

Face burning with shame, she looked away. “Raubahn, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

He silenced her with another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linkpearls, treason, and-
> 
> “Quick, Raubahn – what’s his name?”
> 
> Rating: Explicit  
> Warnings: None

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to skysedge for beta reading.

It was Raubahn who broke away first. Nanamo had lost track of everything - hours could have passed for all she knew. She would have been happy in Raubahn's hold forever, but the bustling activity outside was relentless; it almost masked the sounds of them panting, catching their breath as they drew apart. He leaned his forehead against hers and sighed deeply.

She cradled his head, scarcely knowing what she wanted to do first. Even in the relative calm, her heart was still pounding. She was finding it hard to worry about anything just now - not Tomomo’s absence, nor the threat to Haurchefant; anything that wasn't privacy, and candlelit quiet, and the heat of Raubahn's hand that she'd felt even through her clothes...

Raubahn sighed again, on the verge of saying something, but the soft chime of his linkpearl filled the room. He ran his hand along Nanamo's shoulder, lingering, his fingers tracing along to her wrist before he grudgingly reached to activate the pearl.

“Yes?” His smile for Nanamo was slow and warm and full as he drew back, and he mouthed at her, _the Warrior_ , before his gaze grew distant with concentration. His brows creased.

“Say again? ...No, an echo of some sort. Keep it brief.” A pause. “Right. No, not yet. Please come here first.” A longer pause. “Yes. Thank you.”

Yet another pause, then Raubahn suddenly jerked and snatched the linkpearl out of its slot behind his ear. He stared at it, turning it around to inspect it from every angle.

“What the hell?”

“What is it? What's wrong?”

“The Warrior's voice was echoing the whole time. I've never heard that in a linkpearl before. And when I said thank you, I heard another voice repeat it right after me. Someone else heard that. And they just told us they were listening.”

Nanamo felt her head swimming. “I didn't know that was possible with linkpearls.”

Raubahn's voice was grim. “I think they've worked out how. Where's your pearl?” He took them both, and for a moment he seemed about to crush them both. Instead, he tucked them away.

“I’ll ask Cid to take a look at them, and I must tell Gundobald about the missing papers. I'll ask one of my men to keep you company, help you tidy up. Nanamo –“

Raubahn cut himself off, shrugged, gave up on whatever he was trying to say, and instead reached out to grip her hand. “We'll talk another time. I promise.” And he was striding out of the room.

For a while, Nanamo simply stared at the archway that Raubahn had left through. Surrounded by the wreckage, with an extremely short list of people she could trust, it was easy to feel abandoned. He’d left to talk to capable people, skilled people, people who could make things happen. And then there was her.

* * *

The Warrior arrived a few days later, as though blown in with the wind driving stinging sand grains before it.

“There are heavy sandstorms due. I was asked to secure some supplies before I came here. Please excuse the delay, Nanamo.”

Nanamo could never decide whether she liked hearing the Warrior speak or not. They were normally so reticent that any words were a relief, but their voice was unusual – she became aware of their words without truly hearing them, and she could never be sure if it was a man’s or woman’s voice. But the Warrior was always respectful, always kind; the moment they’d found out that Nanamo did not want to be addressed with any title, they’d switched to using her name right away. The only other person who’d managed that was Raubahn.

“Don’t worry about it! We’ve been stocking up here, too, and we’ve had to recall our scouts. It looks like it’ll be a fierce one.”

“Raubahn said you needed to speak with me face-to-face?”

Nanamo nodded, and began leading the Warrior to her office. As they went, she asked,

“Did he tell you about the linkpearls?”

They shook their head. Nanamo explained about Raubahn’s suspicions.

“I cannot allow linkpearls in my office, now that we know they’re vulnerable. Cid’s working on a new system we can use, but it’s just not stable yet. Still, watching him work has been…fascinating.” Nanamo had in fact added several swearwords to her vocabulary while checking how Cid was getting on. As for lingering out of sight to catch some more, well – Cid and Biggs were both very tall, and Wedge had a habit of whirling to move without looking where he was going. It made perfect sense for Nanamo to stay out of their way.

The Warrior’s face had creased in concern, but they left their linkpearl behind without comment.

“Now, I’d like to hear your news first. What’s been happening in Ul’dah?”

Lots, apparently. When Nanamo had first escaped, the surviving members of the Syndicate had put it about that she was ill, and taking an extended rest in the palace. As time went by, the Ul’dah citizens had begun swapping dozens of rumours: that the Sultana had died from her illness, or been assassinated, or imprisoned, or kidnapped…but the Syndicate made no further announcements. Until now.

“They claim you are a traitor. You are accused of sneaking out of Ul’dah to treat with the Ishgardians, to give them Ul’dah as a base of operations in the Dravanian war.”

Nanamo had jumped to her feet. Her chair crashed to the floor as she slammed her fists on her desk.

“How dare they accuse me? I would never betray my people like that!” _They were your people. But then you ran away._ She hesitated. She had spoken without thinking. It was so easy to go back to the habit of a lifetime, of caring for the citizens almost as a parent.

_“Remember, Nanamo. Your people will rely on you. They may not think of you every day, but the Sultanate is the foundation of Ul’dah life. You cannot ask them to die for you if you will not give of yourself for them in return. Loyalty has to run both ways.”_

_“But I don’t want anyone to die for me! I’ll order it so we won’t fight!“_

_“There will always be fighting. I wish it weren’t so, but a ruler must accept the necessity for war. No city-state will truly protect another’s interests above their own, and so you must be prepared for sacrifice, for war – for the good of your people, and Ul’dah.”_

_And Nanamo had cried with her frustration, as only a child can._

“I would never betray Ul’dah,” she growled. “They stripped me of my rank – of their respect for my rank – when they poisoned me. And now they raise me up again just to create an enemy.”

“There has been much muttering in the city about the Crystal Braves’ presence. I believe this is the Syndicate’s excuse to justify deploying the Braves against you.”

“…and Ishgard again! What are they playing at?”

Nanamo turned to look at the shelf where Haurchefant’s letters should have been.

“I wasn’t sure whether you should be told at all; it’s all guesswork, but we think they are trying to interfere with Ishgard. Now I see it’s all part of a larger pattern. Their target seems to be Lord Haurchefant.”

Nanamo looked back at the Warrior in time to see a spasm of fear on their face.

“I’m sorry. I know you are close.”

The Warrior squeezed their eyes shut, shook their head. Their hands were clenched. It was frightening to see the Warrior anything but calm and competently carrying on. She rounded her desk, gently placed her hand on the Warrior’s and looked up at them.

“Please believe me. When I took your suggestion to contact Lord Haurchefant for aid, I had no idea that I would place him in danger. Dragging him into this is the last thing I would ever want. I’m sorry.”

The Warrior opened their eyes again, looking at Nanamo. They patted her hand, rather absently. In a hoarse voice they added, “I saw you. You were just a child. You were crying.”

Nanamo had heard about the gift of the Echo, of course, but had never been the subject of it before. _It’s definitely weird_. But here, it might be helpful. It had been a long time since she could speak to someone this candidly.

“Yes. I was very young when they placed me on the throne. There was a lot that I didn’t understand until much later.”

“They trained you well.”

Nanamo gave a snort of bitter laughter that didn’t invite the Warrior to join in.

“Aye, very well, but the Syndicate disagreed. It was rather inconvenient for them, having a puppet who didn’t enjoy their dance.”

“Not everyone believes the Syndicate’s claims. The Domans know how you fought to give them shelter. They won’t forget. There are others in Ul’dah who found this all a little too convenient. Some mistrust the way the Crystal Braves have pushed themselves into Ul’dah. And there are those who cannot fathom why Ishgard would have any interest in Ul’dah in the first place. Maybe I can gather these people together, build up your own faction of supporters.”

Nanamo sighed. That was the longest speech she’d heard the Warrior give. She wished it was under happier circumstances.

“And then what? Split Ul’dah and set the people on each other? If pleading my innocence will spark a civil war, I’d rather be branded a traitor.”

The Warrior nodded as if this just confirmed what they’d expected her to say. Here was something Raubahn wouldn’t understand; he’d try to clear her reputation at any cost. Nanamo had never pried into the “tasks” Raubahn had attended to while she held the throne; he never offered specifics. They would have been bloody beyond a doubt. He would not hesitate to take up his sword again in this.

Nanamo half-wished that there was a way to keep Raubahn from finding out about this, but he needed a general’s knowledge of all the ground before him. _And I don’t want to keep any more secrets from him._

Raubahn’s judgement had carried them this far; she would have to keep trusting in it.

* * *

The promised sandstorms had kept everyone confined for… _what is it, ten days?_ Nanamo couldn’t have said with any certainty; her time was marked only by alternating dull yellow and howling dark. Every strong hand had been drafted into sealing the hamlet from the corrosive sand. The old men chewed bitter herbs and reminisced about the last time there were storms as powerful as this; only the eldest generations remembered the last with certainty.

One recruit had left his sword outside on purpose, to test the rumour that sandstorms could etch metal. When he found out, Raubahn had terrified the poor boy into retrieving it and handing it to the blacksmith to be re-forged with grovelling apologies. The blacksmith was half Raubahn’s size at best; stout, and wrinkled as a walnut, but his fury had been just as terrible to witness. Steel was far too precious to waste, and the lad would never touch a sword again if the smith had any say in it.

This boy had taken to hovering outside Nanamo’s office, clearly longing for any company that didn’t involve glowering. _What was his name again? Tel? Jeff?_ Nanamo had barely spoken to him when she took pity on his moping and let him in, only made him sit quietly while she worked.

To begin with, she’d set herself the task of memorising the most important reports, and destroying everything once she’d done so. Nanamo was not going to risk another theft, but the lad had looked up with shock at the first sound of ripping paper. He couldn’t keep himself from gasping, breaking Nanamo’s rule of silence.

“What is it?” At sixteen years the elezen boy towered over her, but he still cowered as though she’d shouted at him.

“You’re…you’re tearin’ the paper!” He gaped at her. She may as well have casually torn an animal’s head off, for the horror in his eyes.

“I have to.”

“But _why_?” he wailed.

And that was how Nanamo found that Jeff – Tel – it was too late to ask, now – was illiterate. He’d been raised to treat books as precious; his village’s entire library had been a shelf of six books in the healer’s house. His father had told him they were the healer’s private books, and _do not touch._

But the boy had wanted to help people, like the healer did, and dared to grab down one of the forbidden books. The healer had come upon him, crouched and frozen like a criminal, and burst out laughing. The books were not rare manuals, but sylph tales – stories for fun. Tel had never imagined such a thing, and the healer had promised to teach him how to read.

And then the Calamity came upon them, and over the years Tel had made his way to Little Ala Mhigo, like so many others, because he had nowhere else to go.

And so it was that when the sky began to clear, neither Nanamo nor Tel noticed until Raubahn came upon them: Nanamo sounding out a story about a coeurl kitten for the boy to copy. His finger shook as he traced it along the words on the page, and half of the words were wrong but Nanamo beamed at him anyway with all the pride of a mother. He jumped like a startled deer when Raubahn cleared his throat, and went pale when he saw him looming in Nanamo’s doorway.

Nanamo blinked up at Raubahn, her eyes a little sore from days of close reading. It was only then that she noticed the room was brighter than it had been for days. The dust was obviously beginning to settle, the wind calming down. She stood up and stretched, yawning, and patted Tel on his elbow.

“Go and get some fresh air, now that there’s any to be had. We’ll read some more tomorrow, ok?”

The lad scampered off. Nanamo waited until he’d gone, and whirled to grab Raubahn’s hand. He’d been about to ask her something, probably what she was doing with the boy who was so out of favour in the rest of the hamlet, but now he was full of concern for all this sudden urgency.

“What’s wrong, Nanamo?”

“Quick, Raubahn – _what’s his name?”_

Some scouts later swore that Raubahn’s bellowing laughter could be heard from the other side of the hamlet.

The next day, Nanamo and Raubahn were once again preparing to venture out into the open desert. It had been a tough job convincing Tel to stay behind – Nanamo _had_ got his name right, but Raubahn wouldn’t stop teasing her – the boy had taken such a shine to her that he almost refused to leave her side. But his new daring couldn’t match Raubahn’s glower, and he always darted off as soon as he saw Raubahn coming.

“If you keep this up, the boy’s going to soil himself.”

“Well, if he stays still long enough I’ll give him a hug next time I see him, alright?” Nanamo could see Raubahn grinning broadly before he fixed his hood in place. The prospect of Nanamo’s first hunt, their first outing after days of being trapped inside, had them both in high spirits. Raubahn obviously enjoyed playing the role of a grump, and no matter how much Nanamo reassured Tel that he wouldn’t hurt him, the boy was still terrified.

Nanamo couldn’t wait to stretch her legs, and the hamlet was in desperate need of fresh food. The scouts had had as much oat porridge as they could take, the culinarian was nearly in tears, and it had been easy to convince Gundobald: among the other hunters and dressed for the desert in a concealing veil, Nanamo would not be an obvious target. It was the most excited she’d felt in weeks, and she grinned up at Raubahn before remembering that he wouldn’t be able to see it. He sensed her joy; his eyes crinkled back at her anyway.

Some hours later, Nanamo had regrets. They’d been lucky, surprising some aldgoats who’d been drawn much farther south than usual in the storm’s confusion, but the sun was beating down fiercely and Nanamo was exhausted. Raubahn had a carcass slung over each shoulder, and cheerfully shortened his steps to keep pace with Nanamo, but she was still falling behind. It had been more difficult to kill the beasts than she’d expected, too – their eyes were rolling with fear while Raubahn explained about different types of finishing strokes, and Nanamo had had to surreptitiously wipe her eyes on her sleeve a few times while he was trussing up their legs to carry them.

It came to her that Raubahn had stopped, looking back to see where she’d got to. She dutifully trotted up to him, trying not to fall over onto her face once she was still again. Raubahn was pointing towards an overhang from a cliff’s edge – and shade.

“Can you manage a little farther? Then we can rest.”

Nanamo had no breath for a reply, but started trudging forward again. She collapsed into the shade, ripped off her hood, grabbed her waterskin and drunk noisily for a time.

“Hey, now, easy. Too fast and you’ll be sick.”

Raubahn was leaning over her, sweating a little in the heat, but it was clear that this had been a casual stroll for him. He’d put the carcasses as far from them as possible in the shade, and now that Nanamo could look around she saw that they were at an entrance to a cave.

“I don’t know how the scouts manage this every day. It’s so _hot._ ”

“I’m sorry, Nanamo. It’s easy to lose track of distance when you’re following game. I should have realised sooner that you were tired.” He soaked a cloth with his own waterskin and held it to Nanamo’s forehead.

“Better?”

“Mmm.” Now that they were still, now that Nanamo was sitting down, she didn’t think she could stand up again anytime soon. “You’ve got me at a disadvantage, you know.”

“Oh?” Raubahn took the cloth back – it had already lost a lot of its water to the air – soaked it again and held it to the back of his neck. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve got much longer legs than me! It’s hardly fair.”

Raubahn threw back his head and laughed, his whole body shaking with it.

“See, that’s better. I don’t like making you worry about me.”

Still chuckling, Raubahn reached over and patted Nanamo’s knee.

“Your legs are lovely the way they are.”

He paused, his smile fading, and started to withdraw his hand. Nanamo snatched hold of it, to keep him from moving away.

“What’s wrong?”

“We never got a chance to talk, did we? I didn’t want to assume…I mean, we’ve been so busy that there was never any time, and then I’ve been helping with the search for Tomomo Momo-”

“Ugh. I don’t want to think about him.” Nanamo turned Raubahn’s hand over and kissed the inside of his wrist. “Let’s pick something else.”

Raubahn ran his thumb along her cheekbone, his eyes crinkled in mischief again.

“Like what?”

Now that she was finally free to say exactly what she liked, Nanamo was lost for words. Raubahn was cradling her jaw as though he was about to move in to kiss her, but he stayed out of reach, his eyes intent, almost solemn.

“Um, well…did I thank you for getting me out of the palace?”

“Yes. Repeatedly. Pick something else.” Now he was brushing sweat-soaked hair away from her forehead. His hand burned. She leaned into his touch anyway.

“And for helping me learn how to fight?” It was difficult to think. The air was so heavy, even in the shade.

“Yes.” He’d moved to rubbing her shoulder, massaging, working out knots she didn’t know she had. “Pick something else.” He was a little closer now, but not close enough to kiss, and Nanamo was too tired to try reaching for him.

She looked into his eyes. He was looking calm, attentive, for all the world as though they were at work in her office, and he was not keeping her waiting for a kiss. He looked like he could have waited forever.

His hand gave a new twist along her shoulder, and without thinking she said, “That feels so good.”

Raubahn smiled at her. “That’s better,” he murmured, and kissed her forehead.

Progress. She added, “I’ve been thinking about the way you kissed me.”

“Mm.” Another kiss on her cheek, so far to the side that he was practically speaking into her ear. “And?”

Now that he was closer, Nanamo could reach up to him, hold him in place against her. Despite the heat, she shivered. She’d felt rather than heard Raubahn; his voice rumbling through her while she could feel his breath on her neck. It felt more intimate than she would have believed was possible while they were still fully dressed.

“And…” Raubahn was nuzzling her now, dropping kisses onto her neck, every part of her shoulder that he could reach; it was too distracting to think of something to keep their game going. “And – _gods -_ and, um…” She couldn’t help shuddering again. This was ridiculous, Raubahn would think that she had never done this before, but here she was being held speechless by the simplest touches-

“Are you stuck?” Raubahn drew back to look at her; she nodded mutely, not trusting herself to speak. “Then it must be my turn.” He smiled at her, a much softer smile, less playful, and kissed her on the cheek again.

“I wish we hadn’t stopped. I wish _I_ hadn’t stopped.” He was whispering into her ear once more. “I wish I’d said something sooner. A long time ago. But I didn’t know.“ Another kiss on her neck, with a suggestion of teeth afterwards, and a gasp slipped from Nanamo before she could stop it.

“I didn’t know how you felt. If you even felt the same way at all.”

Nanamo tried to find her voice. Her mouth had gone dry. She didn’t think it was all from the heat.

“I didn’t realise until recently.” Her hands had clenched into fists, gripping great handfuls of Raubahn’s desert robes.

“But then…then I thought you’d died, and I’d lost my chance. Our chance at happiness together.” Raubahn stilled, and took a ragged breath. Nanamo pulled him back to look him in the eye.

“None of that. We’re talking about something else, remember?” Nanamo looked around for the nearest cave wall. “Come and sit over here. I can’t keep myself sitting upright much longer.”

“Are you alright? Is it the heat?” Raubahn was full of concern again, peering anxiously after her as she shifted to lean against the rock.

“Oh, for- it’s you! I can’t sit up when you’re teasing me like that! I’ll fall over if I’m not careful.”

“…Oh.” Nanamo could see a hint of a satisfied smirk playing on Raubahn’s lips.

“Yes, you have _literally_ swept me off my feet, Raubahn. Now come over here.”

Raubahn seemed only too happy to oblige, reaching to pull Nanamo’s arms around his neck again before he kissed her properly, full on the lips. He slid his arm around her back, pulling her closer to him as he leaned over her. He was gentle at first, almost diffident, but Nanamo had so such hesitation. She nipped at his lip with her teeth, smiling a little when he jumped, but then Raubahn made a soft noise in his throat, half contented sigh, half moan, and began sliding his hand over her hip, down her leg, along to the hem of her robes. He drew back, watching her for a reaction. Nanamo’s face was hot, her breath gone, but she smiled in encouragement.

She half thought of bending her knee, moving her leg to help Raubahn, but he was too quick for her – or rather, she was too slow for him. His movements was far from hurried, but she was too tired, too overheated to manage any sort of helpful responses right now.

Raubahn was running his hand back up her leg, pulling her robe with it. He paused to kiss her again. It was tender, affectionate, a definite contrast to what he was planning as his hand rose past her knee, slipping back under her robe again. But then he stopped; his hand paused, and he mumbled something against Nanamo’s cheek. She tried to focus, to work out what he said.

“…What?”

“Is this okay?”

His face was full of concern again. That was no good. For answer, she pulled up the skirts of her robe entirely, exposing both of her legs, and guided his hand to her crotch. His expression when he could feel her soaking wet against his fingertips was a vast improvement.

Raubahn put the palm of his hand against her stomach and began tracing her folds with his thumb. Nanamo sucked in a breath with a hiss, and Raubahn glanced up at her.

“You’re practically dripping, you know.”

“ _Hah…_ well, um, it has been quite a while – _shit_ – since I’ve been with…someone.”

Raubahn merely nodded, his eyes darker now, but still he simply ran his thumb gently over her labia, watching her hips twitching as though testing her reactions. She tried to drive her hips downwards a little, to get the point across that she was ready for more than teasing, thank you very much, but Raubahn just chuckled and moved his hand along with her. He held his thumb away from her entirely, and laughed again at the outraged huff of breath he got in response.

“Raubahn, come on, I _can’t_.“ She jerked her hips again, with no better luck. When Raubahn leaned down to kiss her again she thought he might have taken pity on her, for he resumed his movements; he even began to drag his thumb up to her clitoris, and smiled against her mouth when a whine tore from her.

“You’re beautiful, Nanamo. I could watch you squirm for hours.”

“You’d better _not._ ” It was probably best not to think how she looked to him at the moment. She could feel swathes of sand sticking to her sweat-soaked skin, her hair damp and dishevelled, but Raubahn was watching her as though he was trying to take in every detail.

He jerked his head in mock contrition, but then he sobered for a moment.

“And, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Raubahn. _Please._ I’m not going to break, I just need - fuck, I need you. Please.” She began running her hands along his neck, stroking, trying to pull him closer, needing to do _something_ to show how much she wanted this. It was a pity she couldn’t reach any further, or she would have to exact her revenge on him for leaving her so desperate for his touch.

Well. That could wait. Raubahn had slid the tip of his index finger inside her, moving gently, watching her closely for any signs of discomfort. Nanamo had to remind herself that he was just being cautious, but it was hard to remember the necessity when she felt so empty, needing to be fulfilled, and filled, and claimed.

It wasn’t long before Nanamo was writhing, urging Raubahn on every time he crooked his finger, thrusting herself onto him, her hands scrabbling against the rock behind her for any purchase. Encouraged, he began to add a second finger and Nanamo _wailed_. She squeezed her eyes shut. It was easier to hear him that way, the way he was praising her; his breath was hitching around _so good, so hot_ and _you’re doing so well_ and _look at you, gods, Nanamo!_  He must have been in quite a state himself – she could sense him trying to jerk his hips forward, trying to get some friction from his own loose trousers - but he was still determined to give her pleasure first.

In gratitude or payback, or both, she would have him later. But now he’d angled his hand differently, rubbing the place inside her that had her mouth hanging open and her voice gone, lost to the sensation that was fire along her whole body. She felt limp and boneless, only able to surrender herself to him and the sweet feeling of-

 _“Ah –_ there, _there_ , I’m close, gods, you feel so good, so sweet…” she hardly knew what she was saying, babbling and moaning and pleading, and then she heard Raubahn give another deep groan and it was suddenly too much. She came hard, her legs tight, hands clenched, gripping Raubahn’s fingers with her body. She caught a glimpse of his face, his expression full of wonder and want as he watched her lose herself completely. He kept working his fingers through her climax, wringing everything from her until she was completely finished. Only then did he gently withdraw, wiping his fingers on the damp rag from before, and held her while she trembled.

Nanamo snuggled in closer, catching her breath while Raubahn kept planting kisses on her forehead, wearing a blissful expression as though it was him who just came –

Hang on. Nanamo’s arms felt like lead, but she started fumbling with Raubahn’s trouser strings anyway, determined to get her own back, but he gently moved her aside.

“The sun’s setting. We should get back.”

And so it was. Raubahn must have seen her disappointment; he shook his head and added, “Besides, they’ll need the meat we’re bringing. Can you make it back, if we go slowly?”

“My legs are wobbly.”

Raubahn had the audacity to wink at her.

“Then you’ll have to lie down when we get back.” His grin told her that it wasn’t sleep that he had in mind.

With that promise, Nanamo followed him out into the desert again. With the sun past its zenith the heat was less intense, and they returned to Little Ala Mhigo in good time. There was still warm light to welcome them through the gate – and Nate as well, dashing to meet them.

Nate was as pale as the day that Tomomo Momo disappeared, and as he fell on Raubahn, shouting something that Nanamo couldn’t make out, she saw Tel hovering in the background as well. _His_ face had a decidedly green tinge. The mellow ease that had lasted for all of their walk back was shattered.

Raubahn had dropped the aldgoat corpses on the ground, the better to keep Nate in one spot long enough to finish what he was saying. Tel took one look at them, legs sticking out at unnatural angles, throats encrusted with gore, and ran off with violent retching noises. Watching him go, Nanamo still couldn’t catch what Nate was babbling about – she turned to look him in the eyes. What she saw did not bode well, though she hardly needed any more evidence of _that_.

“Nate, can you say that again?”

He took several gulping breaths, wringing his hands as though he needed to wash them.

“We just found Tomomo Momo. He’s been killed.”


	6. Chapter 6

Tomomo Momo’s body was a foul sight, but Nanamo had insisted on seeing it anyway. His throat had been slit, his clothes removed and crude designs carved into his skin before he’d been dumped out in the desert. To obscure any identifying clues, Nate had said, and it made a kind of sense, but looking at the broken skin and scoured eyes Nanamo wondered if there was meant to be a humiliation in it as well.

True, she’d not heard of that particular method being used by any of the gangs that bloomed in Ul’dah’s glittering underworld – probably because no one thought it fit information for a Sultana, but using a body to send a message meant leaving it somewhere it was guaranteed to be found. The desert held no guarantees at all.

Sullen quiet was filling the air. After Tomomo’s disappearance, Little Ala Mhigo had been humming with shocked speculation. The seething grew worse during the sandstorm without fresh gossip to replace it. New recruits – what few there were now – were more closely questioned and guards had been everywhere.

Tonight, everything was still. Nanamo had attended the cremation of Tomomo’s body but she was one of the few who did, and she barely saw anyone else on her way back to her chambers.

Nanamo supposed that she should find something to occupy herself, perhaps to visit Cid and find out how the new linkpearls were coming along, but she merely sat on her cot and watched her room fill with shadows. She had no idea where Raubahn was, or Nate, or even young Tel, and she couldn’t find it in herself to look for company. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Tomomo Momo’s body crumpled sadly over the rocks where he’d been found.

Tomomo was a vicious braggart, a lech, and probably worse, but try as she might Nanamo couldn’t feel any relief at his death. The tense pressure of the hamlet was in her head now; her skull pounded every time she tried to think. Something important had passed her by, she knew it; there were details of Tomomo’s disappearance that she’d missed at the time. Trying to run through the events of the last moons was no good; she kept returning to – sand grains, stuck on fixed eyelashes, but no beak marks, no gnawed fingers where wild animals had fed. Odd...

Perhaps it was time to leave Little Ala Mhigo after all. Now that the Syndicate had started openly denouncing her, there was surely a wisdom in moving a safer distance away. A place where no one knew her true name, a place to be completely anonymous. A place where no one had been murdered because of her.

And if there was somewhere like that, then what? Try to take down the Syndicate? It was laughable to even think of it; they had blocked her attempts to rule even while they pretended respect. They would not hesitate to arrest her if she was discovered now.

She didn’t want to leave Ul’dah. Not completely. She didn’t want the Syndicate left to claim whatever they liked about her without being able to fight back. And she _wanted_ to fight, she realised. It didn’t matter that her position had been for show more than anything else, Ul’dah had been trusted to _her_ and she was not going to leave it in the hands of the unworthy.

_And am I worthy, after all?_

...Probably not. But if Nanamo could bring home the proof of the Syndicate’s attempt on her life she could make some difference _,_ put another weapon in the hands of her struggling people. Another arrow to their quiver of complaints. Maybe someday they’d have enough to bring the Syndicate down.

They _were_ struggling, she knew – scuffles were breaking out between the Braves and the citizens almost constantly, and getting bloodier every time. Prices were rising, and the very poor were starving to death. Refugees were being assaulted by locals even as they were exploited for cheap labour by the merchants. A whole city’s-worth of troubles, fermenting for decades – and the members of the Syndicate content to look the other way as long as their income was safe. Did she have the right to tip that over into open resistance? Life in the streets would become much worse before it got better; she’d read enough of old rebellions to be sure of that.

Nanamo’s head gave another throb of pain. It was getting more difficult to concentrate, and in the meantime her room had become completely dark. She was hardly thinking anyway, just arguing with herself. Her eyes drifted closed.

She saw the palace again: concern in the Warrior’s face while she asked for their help. The Alliance could look after itself; she needed to know that Raubahn would be safe. The room was full of light: glinting on the table settings, shining off the fruit, and all underscored by the flickering fire – and then she had drunk from her goblet and the room was choking darkness again. But instead of the Warrior watching her struggle to breathe, it was Tomomo Momo. He grinned, and the knife-cracks in his dry skin widened too. Countless hungry maws were opening wide in pleasure at her distress. He reached for her-

“Nanamo. _Nanamo._ ” Someone was shaking her shoulder. She tried to push them away. They gripped her shoulder again, one huge hand instead of two dessicated ones. _Raubahn._

“Shh, it’s not real, Nanamo. You were dreaming.”

“…I was dreaming.” It felt important to say it out loud. She blinked up at him, trying to focus on the details of him. _I was dreaming. I was dreaming._ She was trembling, drenched in a cold sweat, and reached to pull him closer. Her breath came in gasps; her pulse was pounding in her ears. It felt like suffocating again.

“Easy, easy now. I’m going to light the lamps.” Raubahn kept his voice soft, but she heard the edge in it. She’d scared him. The candle he’d brought sent darkness skittering around the room as he moved. _They’re just shadows._ _Just shadows._ They lessened with every lamp lit until she could start to believe it, until she had to squint around the growing light and shield her eyes.

“Mind if I join you?”

Nanamo’s head was still tender. Raubahn was peering at her, his face lined with concern. She hated making him worry about her, hated being a burden to him. Hated being fragile. He’d sat at her gesture, but far enough away to take in the whole of her as though checking for injuries.

“I’m alright.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, either.”

How could she explain it to him? She shook her head, wincing when it sent fresh ripples of pain.

“I need to tell you something, but I don’t have all the words yet. Just let me talk, please?”

He scooted closer, shifting back to lean against the wall and holding his arm out for her. She curled in against him, borrowing his warmth and strength for what felt like the hundredth time.

“I think I need to be back in Ul’dah. I’m tired of putting the people here in danger, and I’m tired of being on the defensive all the time.”

Raubahn made a noise in his throat, but stayed still. She could feel his breathing, slow and even, and tried to match her own to the same pace.

“I don’t know what I want to do there, or even what I _can_ do. But I do know the Syndicate has been able to do as they liked for too long!”

She’d tensed up, against his arm. He shifted to look down at her, but he didn’t interrupt. She took a few more deep breaths, and carried on.

“I can’t ask you to come with me. You _can’t_ come with me, you’re too...well, obvious.”

He scowled at that, but conceded the point with a tilt of his head. He held her tighter to him. His breathing was faster now.

“You’re not going alone.” It was not a question; there was flint in his voice.

“I don’t know who can be spared. All our best soldiers are needed here.”

“You deserve protection too.” He still sounded stern. She was obviously not meant to disagree.

“But-”

“ _Nanamo._ ”

And that was the end of that. It could have been worse, she supposed. He could have said, _you need protecting._ It was bad enough to face the prospect of being out of his reach again, let alone to have him fussing like a hen. She thought of Raubahn _clucking_ and giggled, and from his expression it looked like she’d been able to shock him out of his concern at last.

They sat in silence for a time. Raubahn seemed relieved that she wasn’t going to argue with him, and Nanamo was perfectly happy to snuggle against him. But there was something else-

“Raubahn?”

Nanamo stood up, the better to look right into his eyes, but he still kept his arm snaked around her, a warm weight against her back. He was just watching her now, enjoying the quiet as much as she was.

“I love you.”

She made sure to pay close attention to his expression, to the wide, slow smile and the delight in his eyes, before she began kissing him. It wasn’t long before Raubahn’s arm was tightening around her, his heart racing where she could feel it, and his hand wandering.

The first light of dawn was pooling on to the window shades before they got to sleep.

***

It wasn’t as though they’d be out of contact, not really. Nanamo was circling the new linkpearl in her palm, content to let her chocobo trudge at his own pace now that Ul’dah was in view. She could speak to Raubahn whenever she needed, in complete privacy.

“ _It’s the best I could do in the time, Nanamo. I know you wanted to be on your way quickly.”_

_How Cid had known that was a redundant question. He had shown such a talent for teasing out fragments of information that had been buried for millennia that it was a waste of everyone’s time to hold anything back from him. He understood how important their need for secrecy was, and he’d proven his loyalty a dozen times over, but it was still disconcerting, the way his mind made new connections that no one would ever dream of._

_And that was exactly why she needed him._

“ _They’re shards of aetheryte crystal – don’t ask me how I got them – smoothed and fused into a transmission circuit for a range of up to-”_

_Cid saw the vague, sleepy look on Nanamo’s face, and added, “They’ll carry your voice on the aether currents. You and Raubahn will need to attune to both of them, and they’ll only work for the two of you, but you’ll have complete privacy. You don’t even need to keep them near your ear, just close to you. I had some other ideas I wanted to try but they weren’t stable enough.”_

“ _They’ll be fine, Cid. Thank you.”_

_Cid had crouched down to her level, closed her hand around the linkpearls and looked at her as though he was determined to memorise her face._

“ _Be safe, Nanamo.”_

The linkpearl looked just like any other. Ul’dah looked the same as it always had, but the landscape refused to line up with her memories. Most times, she’d only approached in curtained carriages before, the few times she’d left the city at all.

The flag of her family was gone, she realised, shielding her eyes against the glaring sunlight to look at the spires where she used to live. Had they always towered so much higher than the rest of the city?

It should have felt more dramatic, coming back to a place where she was a wanted fugitive. Nate River had cantered ahead to find a cheap place to stay, and there were so many practical details to think about that it was easy to forget that she’d be in danger.

They were posing as new adventurers, just two out of the dozens that came to Ul’dah every week in search of money, glory, fame – whatever the wind brought.

Fame and glory, no, but they would need income while she decided what to do. If any of the Syndicate members were taking on new retainers, that would be ideal, but the new rulers of Ul’dah had long since learned caution, and were extremely choosy about their servants. As it was, Nanamo supposed she’d start the way any other adventurer did: with Momodi, proprietress of the Quicksand. She’d actually spoken to Momodi several times before; the Quicksand being one of Nanamo’s favourite places to sit and watch the flow of people around her, and Nanamo prayed that she wouldn’t be recognised. Many of the alliance races joked that all lalafellin looked alike, but the Lalafell had their own ways of distinguishing each other. Momodi had a great love of gossip, too, and getting her promise of silence was Nanamo’s first task.

Nanamo had planned to wait for Nate at the stables, but she didn’t fancy hanging around in one place for too long, and her legs were stiff from riding anyway. The city still didn’t feel real to her; the details were the same as ever, but it felt like someone had taken a great brush and painted paranoia in the air with broad strokes. There was a Crystal Brave stationed on every corner, and two outside the entrance to the Quicksand. She’d have thought it would be too much of a give-away to avoid eye contact with them, if it weren’t for the fact that nearly everyone else did, too.

There were new lines of stress around Momodi’s eyes – sand tracks, the Dunesfolk called them – but she was as lively as ever, darting between good-natured joking with one customer who was obviously a regular, comforting a Roegadyn woman who was sobbing about her wife, and gently plucking a bottle out of the limp hands of a patron who’d dozed off against the counter.

There were more groups of people stationed at tables than Nanamo remembered, though, and they weren’t drinking. They had the look of debt collectors about them; numerous, well-armed, surly, and watchful. She strode past them with her head high, pretended not to notice them muttering amongst themselves, and waited to catch Momodi’s eye.

When she did, Momodi stopped dead. For a frozen moment Nanamo was sure she was going to summon the Braves. _Shit._

But then Momodi hitched a grin back on her face, so quickly that Nanamo could hardly believe it had vanished in the first place, and came running over. She nearly knocked Nanamo off her feet with a bone-crushing hug.

“My dear cousin! How _could_ you have forgotten to write? By the Twelve, it’s been _ages-”_

_What?_

“ _Play along,”_ Momodi murmured in her ear, before calling out, “We must have tea, m’dear, one of the lads can watch the bar for an hour, right, Talen?” This last was directed to a hyur clearing a nearby table, who grinned back at them.

Nanamo was being swept behind the bar and through a door before she knew it, Momodi still trilling to the whole room, “I don’t know where you’re rentin' but you _must_ stay with me, I won’t hear of anything else-”

Past the kitchen, up some stairs, through a door marked-

“Honeymoon Suite’? Really, Momodi?”

Momodi locked the door behind them and leaned her back against it.

“Newly-weds pay a lot for this room, you know. Soundproofed by the Guildmaster Thaumaturge himself!”

“You know me, then.” There was no point dancing around.

“Of course I do, Nanamo – I always knew ‘Lilira’ was a fancy, too. I’m a bartender, you think I don’t get people here in disguises ‘cause I banned ‘em years ago? Thal’s balls, what are you _doin’_ here?” She was almost stamping in her frustration.

“I had to come back.”

Momodi just stared, aghast.

“...I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I have to be here, I have to do _something_.”

“Do you know what they’re sayin’ about you? Do you _know_ what the price on your head is? Five hundred thousand gil! And there are some folk as wonderin’ if they’d get more if you’re dead, too.”

Nanamo sank down onto the nearest chair.

“Five hundred _thousand!_ And no one asks why the Syndicate’s so desperate to catch me?”

“It’s not just the Syndicate, it’s the Braves too. Although there’s hardly any point separatin’ the two now.” Momodi shook her head ruefully.

“Few moons ago, it’d be that the Syndicate says, _jump,_ and the Braves ask how high. Not anymore. Those Braves are playing a very clever game, the bastards. They’ve got their uniformed toughs, oh yes, but they been workin’ on the commonfolk, too. Payin’ for information. Some folk have found a new line of work, rattin’ on their neighbours. You’d think the Calamity never happened, the way they’re turnin’ on each other. Makes me sick.”

“So no, no one _asks_ anymore, in case they’ll be turned in to the Braves for askin’ the wrong questions. The Royalists are gone, or they should be if they know what’s good for them.” Momodi moved to point a stern finger at Nanamo. “So if you take my advice, you’ll get out of Ul’dah too. There’s nothing for you here.”

“You’ve changed, Momodi.”

Momodi was pale now, probably from anger, maybe from fear – though Nanamo hoped it was from shame. She got to her feet, and though she’d moved slowly Momodi still took a step back as though she was brandishing her knife.

“The woman I remember gave the same welcome to everyone, highborn or low. She had a sure touch with people that I could only dream of. She made so many heroes and never stopped to think that she’d made herself one, too. She was the best face of Ul’dah, the best ambassador I could ever have. Now I see that she’s gone.”

“Step aside. I am leaving.” The throne room had entered her voice again, but it was just as well. She didn’t have the luxury of showing fear to strangers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy update, batman! Thank you all for your comments, they really encourage me to keep going.


	7. Chapter 7

The racket of the market always got itself in full swing well before the morning sun could start pouring through the windows. Nanamo had grown accustomed to tuning it out over the last two weeks, but this morning her attempts to roll over and go back to sleep were interrupted by Nate, who insisted on making despairing, groaning noises every few minutes. 

“Serves you right for trying to out-drink a roegadyn.”

“Urgh,” was the only response she got for a time, and then, after much thought, “Ssh.”

“You could try moving out of the sunlight, at least.” The attic room was sparsely furnished, and the landlord clearly thought that curtains were things that happened to other people. A feeble hand emerged from the blankets and made shooing motions, but whether they were aimed at her or the light was impossible to say. She moved anyway, resuming her study of the map of Ul’dah that covered the rickety desk. Last week it had been covered with coloured pins, and Nanamo sighed as she plucked out another one. There weren’t many left, and unless something turned up soon-

“Said he knew something.” This was mumbled into a pillow. “Said he’d tell me if...”

“If you bought him a drink,” she finished for him, accompanied by a dull wail from Nate. “Did he tell you anything?”

The hand waved again, this time clutching a piece of paper. It sailed in front of her vision a few times ( _Can’t give it if you keep moving, Nanamo)_ before she could snatch it away. The paper was so greasy that it nearly fell apart in her hands; it eventually opened to show a rough sketch.

If Nate had just got a rude drawing for his trouble she was going to dump him right in front of the window and leave him to suffer...wait.

Nanamo turned the paper around and realised it lined up with a section of her own map. More than that, the building it showed was one of the few left with a pin marking it.

“Nate! This is wonderful!” More groaning behind her, and some rustling noises that suggested he was determinedly retreating further into his blankets. But the marked building wasn’t too far; she could take a stroll and have a look herself.

 _Nanamo had been ready to storm out of the Quicksand without a second glance at Momodi, but_ _she grabbed_ _her wrist_ _before she could pass_ _._

“ _I won’t tell anyone you’re here, Nanamo. I promise. But it’s too dangerous for you to stay, you must see that.”_

“ _They tried to_ _ **kill**_ _me. I am not going to let them get away with it. If you’re not going to stir yourself then stay out of my way.” And she’d wrenched herself free._

Easy enough to resolve on, that. But finding the source of a probably rare,definitely illegal poison used by the most powerful man in Ul’dah was far more complicated, especially when victims weren’t supposed to survive the attempt and Teledji Adeledji hadn’t been seen in public for moons. Even the name of the poison was proving near-impossible to track down. She’d been tracing various merchants who specialised in those goods since she arrived, investigating one after the other as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself, and in-between the odd jobs needed to keep her cover as an adventurer. Fortunately, their landlord did not charge a high rent and seemed indifferent to their comings-and-goings at odd hours. It said much about the state of things that there were many such merchants to begin with, and Nanamo still couldn’t decide if that was good or bad luck.

But this wasn’t the first time Nate had gotten himself drunk on his investigations, and it was getting impossible to convince herself that he was still being discreet. How long before he let something slip, if he hadn’t already? This roegadyn may even have been sent to mislead them. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d been given false information – although that was an elezen woman, wrist bones jutting out from a ragged jumper, who’d been hoping for a reward. Nanamo bought a meal for her and waited till she got back home to wince over the cost. Even in the few moons since she’d escaped, prices had risen far more than she’d expected.

From warehouses to smoke dens, back-alley vendors to dance clubs – and worse – the chance of finding evidence of the plot was growing smaller with every dead end. Nanamo knew that she couldn’t pass as a regular user of such services – there was no point in lying to herself – but with luck she’d still managed to avoid causing too much comment. It helped that the average Ul’dah citizen could not pick her out from a crowd – when she had addressed the public they’d mostly seen Raubahn, not the tiny Sultana on his shoulder.

Raubahn’s absence was an ache. He’d been by her side almost constantly, giving her gentle touches and warm, secret smiles at every opportunity for weeks now. She’d even grown used to the sounds of him sleeping in the next room, her cot being far too small to admit them both. It was probably too early to try to call him now. She would have to make it up to him once Nate decided to stop dithering in their shared room.

The building marked on her map was rearing up ahead of her. It was designed like a warehouse, but unusually quiet at a time when even the slower merchants were busy, getting the bulk of their work done before the real heat of the day. _Probably another club, then._

Nanamo’s first expeditions into the darker side of her city had been...educational. And deeply unpleasant. She’d heard that lalafell were well-known for being fresh, but wasn’t prepared for people to assume the same about her. Showing some glittering inches of her dagger a few times was enough to convince people to keep their hands to themselves, and after that Nanamo took a little more care with her armour on nights when she had to go into a den like that; it kept all but the most determined hecklers away.

The front entrance was padlocked shut with no sign of who owned the building, but the street was quiet enough that she couldn’t study it more closely without drawing attention to herself.

In fact, as Nanamo looked around at the other buildings she realised that it was not just quiet – it was deserted. Her neck bristled. The locals had an uncanny knack for going to ground before trouble hit the streets; their absence meant she’d best be disappearing as well. Trying not to look hurried, Nanamo started strolling back towards the Exchange, resting her hand casually against her dagger. No one approached, no one appeared in the distance but the feeling of being watched was overwhelming. It was a relief to turn a corner and see the seething crowds again. Next time she’d wait until Nate was fit enough to come with her.

***

The air was thick with cloying incense. He tried not to cough, tried to avoid breathing in at all. At least on his knees he could avoid the worst of the smoke as it rose to the domed ceiling.

“The information was passed successfully, my lord. She still doesn’t suspect anything.”

“Good. We will be ready.” Teledji Adeledji managed to compress endless scorn in the slightest speech.

He couldn’t help shivering in the stifling heat. It felt like his sword was rattling, threatening to burn through his scabbard and start carving its own path. What he wouldn’t give to have this finished with-

“Do not kill her yet.” It was uncanny how often Lord Adeledji managed to guess his mind. He could only pray he was not completely transparent. “I must break her before she dies. The people must realise how weak she was. They must be shown how well we will lead them instead.”

“My lord, she doesn’t want to lead, she-”

Teledji Adeledji simply raised a hand. He didn’t even need the threat of the guards in the corner any more. That was what he’d become. His cheeks burned.

There was a horrible, billowing silence.

“You will bring her to us. You will see that she is captured _alive._ And when the time comes to speak against her you will remember where your loyalty lies, such that it is. Otherwise you will die. Is that understood?”

He bowed his head still further. He could barely summon enough air to breathe “Yes, my lord,” to the floor.

When he was thrust out into the burning light again he tried not to wince. The toughs that had ejected him would only report his weakness, and Teledji Adeledji knew more than enough of those already. The door slammed shut behind him.

Head pounding, lungs screaming, shaking hand on his sword hilt, Nate River began staggering back to his lodgings.

*** 

There was a firm knock at the door, and Raubahn hurriedly composed his expression. He hadn’t been able to speak to Nanamo for a few days: her voice had sounded the sweeter for it, but it wouldn’t do for some Gridanian soldier to see him grinning like a sap.

What Nanamo said about young Nate’s behaviour was troubling, though – he hadn’t shown any lack of discipline under Gundobald’s command, and Raubahn wondered if he’d volunteered to accompany Nanamo as a pretext for carousing. Raubahn itched to go back himself and knock some sense into the lad. _If he lets Nanamo come to harm I will kill him._

And so, when the Warrior of Light strode through Raubahn’s door he was met with a suitable glower.

They talked then, Raubahn being sure to prepare their tea from scratch in front of the Warrior’s eyes – he couldn’t imagine the vaunted Scion being afraid of anything but when they’d insisted on watching all of their food and drink being prepared Raubahn had known better than to argue. Haurchefant, too, had seized the chance to whisper a few cautions to Raubahn when he’d swung by Camp Dragonhead to make a report.

The Warrior’s timing was excellent as ever. Raubahn had been sizing up every soldier that passed him by, gauging nicked weapons and scarred bodies alike; whether they were strong enough, safe enough to send to Ul’dah in his place. He had to send someone else, and soon; Nanamo left many things unsaid, but he’d gathered enough in her silences to know that her investigation was not proceeding well. His skin was crawling the way it had on the night they tried to kill her. Another storm was gathering, he knew it. He could feel it.

The cup splintered in his hand. The noise was a shock; they must have been sitting in silence for some time, the Warrior content to sit in relative peace and let Raubahn gather his thoughts. For a mercy, the cooling tea spilled mostly on the floor. The cup was beyond repair. It was all he could do to watch the pieces skittering away and coming to rest. That felt like a warning, too.

He’d had time to adjust to sending young soldiers into battle, plenty of time to accept that he could be sending them to their death. It never got easier but it did become routine after a time. He met the Warrior’s clear gaze and felt like he’d just been appointed General again for the first time.

“Please. Help her.”

***

Momodi Modi had always known she’d make a killing if she could offer a sound-proofed room, but using it to shape a conspiracy was the last use she’d have expected for it.

She’d taken a lot of care in choosing her guests for this meeting, not even _thinking_ Nanamo’s name until she could be sure they weren’t tools for the Crystal Braves. A promise was a promise, but Momodi refused to let Nanamo take all of the work in restoring order to Ul’dah, even if she didn’t know she was sharing just yet.

It was a busy night. All her staff were a constant to-and-fro from kitchen to table and back again, an endless interweaving dance that made it easy to conceal a handful of people making their way behind the bar and upstairs. She made a handsign to Talen and followed them – he knew enough to conceal her absence for a time. Sure enough, as she mounted the stairs she could hear the splash of some carefully-chosen cheap ale, just as carefully spilled to seem an accident and draw eyes.

It was daunting, the way everyone looked to her when she stepped through and carefully locked the door behind her. Her throat went dry. But in everyone’s eyes she could see the same worry, the same fear that had been pressed back for so long. And she could also see their resolve, all determined to bring their city back to the light.


End file.
